POSTHUMOUS NAVY CROSS OK’D

A Camp Pendleton Marine killed in action in Afghanistan in 2010 has been approved for a posthumous Navy Cross, the second-highest medal for valor in combat.

Sgt. Matthew Abbate, a 26-year-old scout sniper with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, was fatally wounded on Dec. 2, 2010, in the Sangin district of Helmand province amid a coalition airstrike and enemy attack.

Two months before he died, Abbate’s actions on the battlefield during an ambush that wounded several Marines would eventually garner him the Navy Cross.

On Oct. 14, 2010, just after the battalion arrived in the hard-fought Sangin River Valley, Abbate and his sniper section set out on foot patrol with a squad of Marines through the “green zone” of orchards and fields.

Insurgents fired on them from well-prepared positions, trying to lure them into a minefield. Two Marines and a Navy hospital corpsman were blasted by improvised explosive devices, or IEDs.

“With the squad leader incapacitated, and the rest of the squad either wounded or disorientated, Sgt. Abbate took command,” said the citation signed by Navy Secretary Ray Mabus on behalf of the president.

“With total disregard for his own life, he sprinted forward through the minefield to draw enemy fire and (rally) the dazed survivors. While fearlessly firing at the enemy from his exposed position, he directed the fires of his Marines until they effectively suppressed the enemy, allowing lifesaving aid to be rendered to the casualties.”

As Abbate coordinated the medical evacuation and searched for more bombs, the Marines were attacked again. “Realizing that the casualties would die unless rapidly evacuated, Sgt. Abbate once again bravely exposed himself to enemy fire … and led a counterattack that cleared the enemy from the landing zone, enabling the helicopters to evacuate the wounded,” the citation said.

Abbate’s family in his hometown of Fresno was informed of the decision Tuesday, when a Navy representative called to say the posthumous medal would be awarded within the next six months. Details are pending, a Navy spokeswoman said Thursday.

During their seven-month tour in Sangin that ended in the spring of 2011, the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines suffered heavier casualties than any other combat unit in the Afghanistan War — 25 killed and some 200 wounded.

Abbate was fatally wounded near Patrol Base Fires after a patrol of Marines pinned down by an enemy attack called in a “danger close” airstrike. His death was investigated as a possible “friendly fire” incident to determine whether it was shrapnel from two 500-pound bombs dropped near his position or enemy gunfire that caused his fatal head and shoulder wounds.

An inquiry completed last year concluded it was likely a combination of fragmentation from a coalition bomb and the “sympathetic detonation” of enemy explosives in the area that caused his death. A final determination was pending an Armed Forces Medical Examiner report.

The Marines crouched with Abbate that morning behind a low dirt berm were startled by the second bomb, which seemed to land about 500 feet away, said one who was present.

After yelling at the others to “get down!” Abbate may have put his own head up too soon so he could spot enemy fighters fleeing the impact area, according to investigations presented to the family in December and Marines who were present.

Abbate’s stepfather, Jim Binion, said he considers the incident a tragic accident, and one probably befitting of his son’s brave, impatient nature.

Sgt. James Finney, 25, served with Abbate in Sangin. When he heard of his friend’s death, he had the same reaction as many Marines in the battalion: “How do we win this war without him?”

Abbate was revered as the ultimate Marine: physically unstoppable, relentless, courageous and caring of his brothers-in-arms. He was a born fighter with a magnetic personality and movie-star looks.

His voice-mail message said: “Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but I’m on adventures. With guns.”

“He was something else,” Finney said. “Some guys, they have the heart, but they don’t have the ability. Or they have the ability but not the heart. He was the whole package. And he was humble about it.”

Jordan Laird, a Marine veteran who was beside him the day he died, said: “The guy had everything going for him. He was strong. He was a good-looking dude. But his sense of duty to his country and to his brothers trumped everything. He was completely selfless when it came down to it.”

Abbate wasn’t in it for the medals, said Laird, 25, speaking by phone from Afghanistan where he works as a security contractor. “He was just a warrior and a patriot. It didn’t matter if he never got an award. … He was always going to go out and do his best and be completely fearless on the battlefield at all times.”

Sgt. Chris Woidt, 25, served with Abbate in Iraq. The Navy Cross: “It’s fitting. He was trained by the legacy of these Marines that took Baghdad, that took Fallujah, that were in the epic battles of Iraq. And then he goes to Afghanistan, and he is in the epic battle of Afghanistan.”

Abbate’s mother, Karen Binion, said her son did not speak much of his combat tours. It wasn’t until after he died that she learned how respected he was by his peers.

“I’m incredibly proud of him. I don’t know if proud is the word. But I am so impressed to know who he was,” she said.

“I think anyone can shoot someone, or many people can. I don’t think that requires any incredible courage or sense of self. That can be an incredibly cruel thing. But Matt saved more people than I think he killed. He made things safer for people that were there,” she said.

Abbate, who is survived by his 4-year-old son, Carson, was known by family and friends as a “wild child.” As a Marine, he was meritoriously promoted several times and punished several times for brawling and other indiscretions.

“He was the worst teenager I have ever known, and he was the best man I’ve ever known,” his stepfather said. His parents tried to talk him out of re-enlisting, but Abbate’s attitude was “if I die, I die.”

Being a Marine, “that’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at,” he said.